


What Might Have Been

by rubyisarbitrary



Category: The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy - Kellyn Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Violet and Ivy are so cute omw, angst & fluff, if Jordy never cheated, if Violet had used an ounce of self restraint, if Violet never cheated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28664724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyisarbitrary/pseuds/rubyisarbitrary
Summary: In her old age, Ivy reflects on what might have been.
Relationships: Jordy McAllen/Ivy Knight, Violet Angel & Ivy Knight, Violet Angel & Ivy McAllen





	What Might Have Been

“Mum, what’ve ye got?” Her daughter leans over her shoulder, plaits bouncing forward. Still her little girl, even after all those years. “If ye keep reminiscin’, we’ll never get all this put away.”

“Yes, well …” Her fingers clutched the book, a practically ancient piece on music theory. The cover was nearly falling off, and she gently rearranged it, her fingers caressing the textured binding. “I’m trying. There’s just a lot to reminisce about.”

Addie laughed, stood up straight, and walked, a slight bounce in her step, to a corner of the attic where a small window sat, shutters drawn. “Let’s throw it open an’ let th’ sunshine in.”

She laughed, placed the book aside, and rose, brushing cobwebs off her dress. “But you’re already here.”

Addie cast an eye roll over her shoulder—quite the talent, but she pulled it off marvelously—as she pried open the shutters. Sunlight penetrated the darkness, showing tiny flecks of dust everywhere, little gold sparkles dazzling over the path the light crossed.

“So what’s in th’ box?”

“Mm, well. Memories.” She laughed, then, because that was ridiculous. “I suppose you think I’m silly.”

Addie shook her head. “Never you. Memories?”

“Yes. Old friends. And it gets me thinking about … what might have been.”

“Aye, weel, an’ I’d like tae think about wha’ might ha’ been someday.” She crossed the room and flopped down onto the floor, rearranging her skirts. They’d gotten shorter again this year, a trend that would hopefully continue. There was frankly too much fabric in the outfits everyone was made to wear. “I suppose I’ll never ha’ tae, because ye kept me from makin’ all the stupid choices.”

She shook her head, denying it, but took her daughter’s hand and squeezed it. If only it had been her stupid choices. That might have been so much easier to live with.

So much easier to keep from dreaming about what might have been.

***

_ Curled up on the floor of Ivy’s living room, sheet music spread about. Addie had some in her mouth, and Violet pried her sticky fingers open and tore it away. _

_ “Soaked,” she pronounced. “Heavens, Adeline. There’s a reason your sister is named after me and you after your mother.” _

_ Ivy laughed. “Let me take her. I’m afraid two years is a bit young to start with music, dearest.” _

_ “Nonsense. I was hardly older.” Nevertheless, she passed Addie over and collected up a few scraps. “So what do you think? Am I getting somewhere?” _

_ “I hardly know. I can hear parts of it, but not all together. Yet. But it’s coming, Violet—I can feel it. It’ll give us something to do, at least.” She held up a sheet. “We have to redo this one.” _

_ Violet squinted. “What? That’s part of the allegro, isn’t it?” She launched herself forward and snatched the sheet away. “That part is perfect. You’re an idiot.” _

_ “Can’t you feel how garbled it’s going to sound? Especially if you have all the violins playing this section, which requires some interpretation—” She tried to take the paper back, but Violet stood. _

_ “Shush, Trifle. I know my own symphony. It’s late, you know—should we get supper for these wee heathens of you?” _

_ Ivy blinked and glanced at her watch. “Oh, heavens, it’s 5:30! I’m sorry—without Jordy here, I never think about dinnertime. Thank goodness you’re here.” _

_ Violet coughed. “Right. With him in London, it just seemed … best.” _

_ She scooped Addie up and passed through into the kitchen. “How so?” _

_ “Oh, you know. He’s there. You’re … here. Alone. And you must need me, Trifle. I’m so necessary.” Violet’s flippant voice behind her, rambling about Ivy’s utter incapability, faded into the background as she began preparing for dinner. _

_ “Well, I’m glad you came here, though I’d rather hoped you would stay in London and take care of Jordy. I can’t imagine what he’s eating; he can be so irresponsible.”  _

_ “Mmhmm …” _

_ *** _

_ Music was scattered over her piano now, and Violet was scribbling frantically while Ivy kept her fingers flying, catching every note almost before it was played. _

_ “What’s this one, then?” Violet asked as the last chord trailed off. _

_ “Oh, I don’t know.” Unlike Violet, Ivy didn’t compose symphonies. She wrote pieces for the piano—complex pieces, granted, but solos or on the very rare occasion, duets, though they struggled to get those put down. And they didn’t have a cohesion to them, necessarily, either. _

_ Violet threw up her hands in a half-hearted gesture of frustration. It wasn’t true frustration, not after all these years, though perhaps that made it truer. It was expected frustration, frustration one knew one would have, which was the best and the worst kind. “What feeling were you experiencing as you played, Trifle?” _

_ “I was happy, but a bit sad.” She cocked her head. “Motherhood, perhaps. I thought of Molly, and the rest of it just flowed out. And I thought of how hard it is on Letty.” _

_ Violet chuckled, a small sound of bitter amusement, but she smiled. “She’ll be fine, Trifle. She has her own life, all right? She won’t be alone forever. Independent, is what Letty is, even despite Molly. She’ll find something. So is this ‘For My Violet?’” _

_ Ivy shook her head. “No. Other pieces have been ‘For My Violet,’ and those were for you, and this wasn’t for Letty, either. This is ‘Inevitable Changes.’” She laughed at that, too, and shook her head. “I’ll think about it later. Let’s work on your latest piece now—I feel I can just taste the finishing touches.” _

_ *** _

_ Ivy dropped to her knees, covered her face with her hands, and let a sob escape. She’d been so good—so very good—and she hadn’t let go until now, with the casket was lowered and the mourners moving down the hill, away from the graveyard. _

_ A few members of her family lingered back, almost unsure what to do with her. It was Violet who stepped forward, placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezed. _

_ “Shh, Trifle. It’s all right. I know.” Her own voice was thick. “I’m here, all right? I’m here. ‘Dinna fash yerself,’ wouldn’t he say? Come away now.” _

_ And Ivy rose and walked down the hill because she had someone to lean on. _

***

She raised her face to Addie’s, with the sudden knowledge that her daughter was looking at her strangely, and touched her cheeks to find them damp.

Addie set down the box she was holding, this one filled with books Ivy had never been able to quite get rid of, and came close. “Mum! Are ye a’right?”

“I’m fine! I’m a silly old woman, but I’m absolutely fine.” She took her daughter’s hand and squeezed it. “Come now. Let’s go downstairs. I want to show you something—on the piano.”

Addie sighed. “Oh, Mum …”

“No. I’ve never been able to write them down, sunshine, so the least you can do is listen whenever I want! Even if you’re not particularly musical.” She clattered down the stairs. “You know, you’re just like your father in that! Oh, he could always carry a tune if he needed to, but he would never let me teach him to play the piano! Thank heavens your sisters retained a little, and Wally a lot, or I would just about given up.”

Addie’s laughter, light and cheerful as always, floated down the stairs after her. “Ach, a’right. I’m comin’, Mum.”


End file.
